I thought about Theo a lot, playing out endless fantasies in my head where we met up by running into each other’s arms and kissing passionately. I knew I was probably being stupid to even think it would happen, but I couldn’t stop myself from imagining it. By Thursday afternoon, we had all the identities sorted. I stayed in the squat while Lewis visited his friend to order all the paperwork we were going to need. He was planning to get Max to hack into one of Elijah’s online accounts at the last minute to get the money to pay for the passports and certificates his friend was forging for us.
That whole side of things seemed slightly unreal to me. I was happy to let Lewis deal with it and stay behind to concentrate on the simple martial arts moves he had taught me.
I was so focused on what I was doing that I didn’t hear Lewis come back into the squat. When I turned round he was standing in the doorway, watching me. He tossed a pack of sandwiches on the floor. I made a face. I was fed up of eating nothing but sandwiches.
‘You look good, Rachel,’ he said. ‘Seriously. You’re really starting to be able to handle yourself.’
I blushed, more pleased than I could put into words. I hadn’t seen myself in a mirror for days – the one in the public toilets had been ripped off the wall – but I knew I’d really toned up because my trousers felt looser and my arms didn’t get so tired any more when I worked out. Plus, my hair had started to annoy me all round my face, so I’d started tying it back into a ponytail. But none of those physical things seemed to matter so much any more. What counted was feeling strong and confident.
And, with Lewis around, I did.
I grinned at him, then bent down to pick up the sandwiches.
Egg mayonnaise.
‘They’d run out of ham,’ Lewis said apologetically.
I straightened up. Something was different. Lewis seemed a little on edge. Anxious even.
‘What’s up?’ I said.
‘I’ve contacted RAGE,’ he said. ‘Told them I’ve got you and I want to talk. They’re bringing us both in. Tomorrow night.’
51
Theo
It’s instinct, isn’t it? A door opens in front of you. You look inside.
I looked. And saw a smart, comfortable living area, not that different from my own, complete with sofas, table, and TV. On the left-hand wall were two doors. On the right was a desk and one of those large holographic panels like they had in the Outdoor Room, showing a moving scene of trees waving in some imaginary breeze.
Everything was neat and ordered. No sound of anyone nearby.
I stepped into the room.
I didn’t think about it. I just did it. The door immediately swished shut behind me. My heart bumped in my chest. There was no way I could kid myself any more. I was somewhere I wasn’t supposed to be. Doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing.
I crept across the room to the doors on the left-hand wall. Eased the first gently open. A bedroom. Large, steel-frame bed. Black silky cover. A picture of Mel on one of the bedside tables.
If I hadn’t been completely sure before, I was now. I was in Elijah’s private quarters. I opened the second door. A grey-and-white marble bathroom. Again, everything neat and ordered.
I couldn’t see any more doors leading on from the bedroom and bathroom. I frowned. Was this all the space Elijah had? It didn’t make sense. He used a private jet. Surely, at the very least, he’d have some kind of kitchen or dining area.
I shut both doors and walked across the living area to the large desk. I scanned the surface – a slim computer, a bundle of papers and a large, scuffed leather diary. Clearly Elijah liked old-fashioned ways of keeping track of his schedule.
Glancing round me again, I shuffled through the papers. A few incomprehensible reports on some scientific research. My medical report was there too. I flicked through it. I hadn’t actually seen it written down, but as far as I could tell there was nothing in it that differed from the information the doctors had given me at the time of the examination.
I put all the papers back as I’d found them, then opened the leather diary. I scanned the pages. Some were completely blank, others full of entries. They were all written in black ink, in old-fashioned, looping writing. I turned to this week’s page. Under today’s date it said: Med. Exam.
Was that my medical examination? But that had been yesterday, not today. Anyway, why was it logged in Elijah’s personal diary?
I slammed the book shut, feeling annoyed. I placed the diary carefully back on the desk, beside the bundle of papers. There wasn’t much else to explore.
My frustrated sigh sounded loud in the silence of the room. And that’s when I noticed. The computer in front of me had silently switched on. A digital clock in the upper right corner of the screen was flashing.
Return in 119 seconds
Return in 118 seconds
Panic seized my throat. What did that mean? Had the computer realised I was in the room? I stared stupidly at the screen. It was covered with tiny folders.
Return in 112 seconds
Return in 111 seconds
The words sank in. Elijah was on his way back to his room. He obviously had some way of priming his computer to be ready for him.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I started backing away, my eyes still fixed on the screen. I had to leave. But this was Elijah’s personal PC. All his private files were on here. All his secrets. All his plans . . .
I scanned the folders, desperately searching for something that might refer to me. Most of them were labelled in code. Or with boring, financial-sounding titles.
Return in 95 seconds
Return in 94 seconds
Then I saw it. A file labelled: Hermes Project.
Hermes.
I was sure that was another Greek god name. It had to be connected.
Connected to me.
Return in 82 seconds
Return in 81 seconds
I dragged the mouse so that the on-screen cursor hovered over the Hermes Project folder.
Return in 77 seconds
Return in 76 seconds
No time. No freaking time.
Shit. My heart raced. Elijah would be inside the room in just over a minute. My breathing was loud and ragged in my ears. I let go of the mouse. Checked again that the papers and diary were as I’d found them.
Then I turned. Ran to the door. Pressed the exit button. Slipped out. Tore down the corridor.
As I reached the corner I looked back. Elijah was coming into view, striding towards his room, his head bent over some papers.
I sped off. The way back to my room seemed as obvious now as the route to the Outdoor Room had been confusing earlier. I was inside Begonia in less than a minute. I raced over to my computer and went online. I checked out the name Hermes. Yes. Hermes was another Greek god. More. Hermes was another of Zeus’s children. Just like Apollo and Artemis.
My stomach tightened. Did that mean Elijah was planning more clones? He had said he wasn’t cloning any more, but then he’d said a lot of things. How did I know what to believe? I switched off my computer and sighed. Even if the Hermes Project was something to do with another clone experiment – what did that have to do with me?
There was only one way to find out.
Somehow I had to get back into Elijah’s private room and look at the file properly.
52
Rachel
We waited just outside Victoria Park. It was almost midnight and I was shivering from the cold.
Well. Not just the cold.
I was more scared than I’d ever been in my life. Far more scared than I’d felt at the school disco. Then I had no idea what was going on and everything was happening too fast for me to take it in.
Now I knew exactly what was going to happen. Or at least what Lewis and I wanted to happen. And we’d been waiting for hours.
‘How much longer?’ I murmured for the tenth time.
‘Soon,’ Lewis said calmly. ‘They’re probably watching us ri
ght now.’
I shivered again.
Lewis was acting all casual, like he had when Theo and I had first seen him sauntering down from the school gates. He was slouching against the park entrance, his hands in his pockets. But he was making this little hissing noise under his breath. It wasn’t a big deal, but he didn’t normally do it. I was sure, now I knew him better, that he felt more tense than he was letting on.
‘Lewis?’ A harsh male voice behind us.
Lewis and I spun round.
A pale-skinned man in a thick, hooded jacket was standing on the other side of the park gates. He was staring at me as if I’d just crawled out from under one of the park’s many small bushes. My heart pounded.
‘That you, Franks?’ Lewis said. ‘D’you want us over the gate?’
Franks nodded. ‘If freak-girl can make the climb.’ He glanced contemptuously at me. I glared back. The park gate was high and made from steel bars. Two weeks ago there was no way I could have climbed it. But now . . .
‘I’ll be fine,’ I said.
Lewis helped me onto the first bar. I scrambled up to the next, then swung first one leg, then the other over the top of the gate. Lewis clambered up beside me like a monkey. Together we let ourselves down the other side of the gate as far as we could. Then Lewis let go.
I heard him land with a gentle thud.
‘Rachel,’ he said. ‘Come on.’
I let go too. Lewis half caught me as my feet touched the ground. He gave my arm a gentle squeeze before gripping my wrist. ‘Where now?’ he said.
Franks beckoned us across the park. It was kind of creepy in there in the dark. The wind whipped round our faces, tearing through the nearby trees. All around bushes rustled. I was so spooked I half expected masked men to jump out at us at any moment.
We made it to the other side of the park and climbed out over the fence there. As we passed under a street lamp Franks gave me a long, scornful look. I shivered, glad Lewis was with me.
After a couple of roads we reached what looked like the edge of some kind of industrial estate. It was completely deserted. Franks stopped us and insisted we put on blindfolds. ‘Simpson’s orders,’ he snapped.
Lewis nodded. ‘Fine. But remember I’m doing you the favour. And I’ve been putting up with freak-girl here for nearly a week. I haven’t got much patience left.’
I swallowed. I knew Lewis was going to have to talk about me like that – after all, he had to convince RAGE that he was on their side and double-crossing Elijah – but I still didn’t like hearing it.
‘Just do it,’ Franks barked.
I tried to breathe in and out slowly as I tied the blindfold behind my head.
‘Walk,’ he said.
I stumbled forwards, reaching out with my hands, trying to feel my way.
Franks swore. Then grabbed my wrist, like Lewis had done, only much more roughly. Close to, he smelled of sweat and tobacco. He dragged me after him for several minutes. I lost all sense of what direction we were walking in.
At last we came to some steps. I fumbled my way down them, feeling the air around me get damper. There was a strong smell of urine. The sound of bolts being dragged back. Whispering. A door scraping.
I was pushed forwards, out of the cold. Indoors. The door slammed shut behind me. Fingers fumbled at the knot in my blindfold. I could see bright light through the black of the material.
The material fell away. I screwed up my eyes against the sudden glare, trying to see around me.
We were in some kind of underground room. Bare walls, bare concrete floor, no windows and a fluorescent striplight in the ceiling. Computers were set up on trestle tables all around. A handful of men and women were sitting at the tables. They were all staring at me, their eyes showing naked curiosity. And disgust.
‘New H.Q.,’ Lewis said flatly. ‘I see you moved.’
‘We had no choice, thanks to you.’ The speaker was a man with long, grey hair tied back in a short ponytail. I recognised his voice straight away.
He was the masked man Lewis had hit, but not shot, when we were escaping from my school disco. He strode towards us, his glassy eyes intent on my face.
Lewis took a step forwards.
‘Mr Simpson—’
‘Quiet,’ the man barked.
Two burly men appeared from nowhere and grabbed Lewis by the arms. The man who’d walked with us from the park – Franks – moved closer to me. I could smell his breath, rank from stale cigarettes.
‘Wait. Please, sir.’ Lewis’s voice was urgent.
Simpson glared at him. ‘You have thirty seconds to convince me not to kill you both,’ he snapped. ‘Starting now.’
‘I can get you to Apollo,’ Lewis said quickly. ‘And I can get you to the heart of the compound in D.C. Destroy that and you set Elijah Lazio’s research back by ten years.’
Simpson’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me all this six months ago, when you came to me, asking to join the army?’
Army? And then I remembered. RAGE: Righteous Army against Genetic Engineering. My heart pounded.
‘I didn’t know any of it then,’ Lewis said. ‘Elijah Lazio only contacted me last week, just before the school attack. He had my girlfriend. Said he’d kill her if I didn’t save Apollo and Artemis. So I went along with it. Later he took Apollo and told me to wait here with the girl, until—’
‘Why didn’t you come straight to me as soon as he contacted you?’ Simpson snapped.
‘I was waiting to make sure my girlfriend was safe,’ Lewis said. ‘Lazio won’t release her until I deliver this piece of filth.’ He pointed at me and a completely convincing look of fury crossed his face. ‘I don’t trust the bastard. He’s going to kill my girlfriend. Kill us both. I hate him. Hate his work. Hate everything he stands for. You know that.’
‘What about Bains?’ Simpson said more slowly. ‘He’s not here now, but I know he’s eager to see you again.’
I held my breath. I knew from our conversations that Bains was the man Lewis had tasered. The man who had been going to shoot Theo.
‘He got in the way,’ Lewis shrugged. ‘At the time it was him or my girlfriend.’
Simpson drew a gun from his jacket and pointed it at Lewis’s head. The two men beside Lewis tightened their grip on his arms.
‘You’re pathetic,’ Simpson said. ‘Putting your personal shit before the cause.’
I could see the faintest flicker of panic in Lewis’s eyes. He opened his mouth. ‘Wait. Listen. I—’
‘Shut up.’ Simpson’s shout cut off Lewis’s words. The atmosphere in the room grew tense. I held my breath. Simpson cocked the gun. ‘Write down exactly where the compound is,’ he snarled at Lewis. ‘Address. Right now.’
Someone put a pen and paper in front of Lewis. He bent over, scribbling an address. ‘But you can’t just walk in through the front door,’ he said as he wrote. ‘I can draw you a detailed schematic. I—’
‘SHUT UP!’ Simpson roared.
I could see Lewis’s heart beating furiously against his chest. For some reason his fear made me feel more afraid than seeing the gun pointed at his head.
‘All we need is Artemis.’ Simpson glanced at me. ‘She’s our ticket inside. We don’t need you, Lewis.’
‘No . . .’ I gasped.
‘Quiet,’ Simpson snapped.
Lewis looked at me. His eyes said he was sorry.
My heart was in my throat. I couldn’t survive this without Lewis.
Do something.
Simpson sucked in his breath. He steadied his arm. The tip of the gun pressed against Lewis’s forehead.
Lewis closed his eyes.
‘Wait,’ I said. ‘Lewis is right. You won’t get inside the compound without him.’
‘What do you know about it?’ Simpson sneered.
‘I’ve seen the plans,’ I said, desperately trying to remember the rough drawing of the compound Lewis had shown me. ‘It’s completely underground. The only way in is through the tunnel
and the front gates. There are two of them. With cameras showing exactly who’s approaching. The guards won’t let anyone through whose face they don’t recognise.’
I was pretty sure all that was true. But I didn’t care. All that mattered was keeping Lewis alive.
Simpson hesitated. ‘And why do you care so much about us getting inside the compound?’
I thought fast. ‘I don’t,’ I said. ‘But . . . but I care about Theo. If you’re going to kill us then I’d rather we were together. And anyway, once we’re inside the compound anything can happen.’
Simpson stared at me. He shook his head, slowly. ‘What’s going to happen, you little freak, is that we’re going to blow that disgusting abomination against humanity into the next century.’ He lowered his gun. ‘Very well,’ he said to Lewis. ‘You get one more chance. Make it count.’
53
Theo
‘So is Elijah going to see me today?’ I tried to sound casual, but I was sure I wasn’t fooling Mel.
She put down my breakfast tray on the low table and gazed at me sympathetically.
‘I don’t think so,’ she said softly. As she stood up I noticed a fresh bruise on her cheek. My chest tightened. I wanted to say something to her – something about Elijah being a bastard, and about how sorry I was and how, if I could, I’d knock him into the next century for her.
But I didn’t know how.
Anyway, it was obvious Mel didn’t want to talk about it.
It was early Saturday morning, two days after I’d sneaked into Elijah’s private rooms. I hadn’t told Mel about that, mainly because I was aware of how much trouble she’d be in if anyone had found me and I was worried she’d be cross. I had asked her some questions about his work, but her knowledge appeared to be limited – stuff picked up from overhearing conversations that she didn’t fully understand, rather than any in-depth information about his scientific research.
It was up to me. Me alone. Somehow I had to get back into Elijah’s room and get another look at his computer. I was sure that his files – especially that Hermes one – would answer all my questions.
I picked up a slice of toast.